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Poetry » Life » Jobs font: B s : A A A . width: full 3/4 1/2
Author: vainya
Fiction Rated: M - English - Angst/Poetry - Published: 01-06-08 - Updated: 01-06-08 - Complete - id:2459623

I kill people for a living;
There's a price to pay for all this death
I'm giving
I live paycheck to paycheck
Grudge to grudge;
Answering my pager at every nudge

I'm like death knocking at your door
Killing without a real reason to kill for
I don't care how many families I've torn
As long as I get the reward I yearn

I'll do what it takes to get the job done
I want to be the one,
You'll call on next time
I'll handle your missions;
With your permission:
I'll get you the drugs, kill your wife;
But if you don't pay me I'll take your life!

I don't feel sorry for those I kill
You were in the way so kill I will
I'm not the one who has to deal;
The pain for me is not for real

It's my job, I do as I must
Kill to kill; break to bust
This job is driven by nothing but lust
Don't come to me and say you're my fan
Cuz I'm nothing, nothing but a hit man


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